Pamela
Quebec Sexy Stars Vol 02
Lesbian Stories Volume 02
Lesbian Stories Volume 02
Prison lecture
Big Toys No Boys #07
Passionate Partners
He hooks her wrists behind her and pushes. She folds over the marble, cheek pressed cold to stone. Fabric rips. He tugs the silk down her hips and the dress pools at her heels. Her skin goose-bumps in the night air. He runs a hand up her spine, then grips the small of her back and drives inside her in one sure stroke. The wet sound fills the quiet room. He fucks like he wants to leave marks she’ll still feel tomorrow—long, deliberate thrusts that shove her hips against the edge with every snap of his. She bites the heel of her hand to stay quiet and fails. He leans in, teeth grazing her shoulder, and finds the spot where her throat meets collarbone. One arm snakes under her ribs and lifts her just enough to stroke deeper. Every pulse of his cock drags against the slick clutch of her cunt until her legs tremble and she starts to clamp around him. He slows, draws almost all the way out, then sinks back in, grinding at the end of each thrust so her clit drags against the cold marble. Sweat slides down her spine. His fingers find it, circle, press. The pressure builds, bright and mean. He bites her earlobe and whispers a single filthy word. That’s all it takes. She comes hard, pulsing, slick coating his balls, thighs quaking. He holds her through it, still moving, each thrust coaxing another tiny tremor until he finally spills, groaning low against her neck.
He hooks her wrists behind her and pushes. She folds over the marble, cheek pressed cold to stone. Fabric rips. He tugs the silk down her hips and the dress pools at her heels. Her skin goose-bumps in the night air. He runs a hand up her spine, then grips the small of her back and drives inside her in one sure stroke. The wet sound fills the quiet room. He fucks like he wants to leave marks she’ll still feel tomorrow—long, deliberate thrusts that shove her hips against the edge with every snap of his. She bites the heel of her hand to stay quiet and fails. He leans in, teeth grazing her shoulder, and finds the spot where her throat meets collarbone. One arm snakes under her ribs and lifts her just enough to stroke deeper. Every pulse of his cock drags against the slick clutch of her cunt until her legs tremble and she starts to clamp around him. He slows, draws almost all the way out, then sinks back in, grinding at the end of each thrust so her clit drags against the cold marble. Sweat slides down her spine. His fingers find it, circle, press. The pressure builds, bright and mean. He bites her earlobe and whispers a single filthy word. That’s all it takes. She comes hard, pulsing, slick coating his balls, thighs quaking. He holds her through it, still moving, each thrust coaxing another tiny tremor until he finally spills, groaning low against her neck.